3 AM
by Rippl
Summary: Just after 3am, she's awoken by a loud crash. She groans into her pillow, annoyed at being woken up. She was willing to bet Haymitch was the source of the noise – he nearly always was.


"I thought she was going to win." Effie mumbles, looking at the images on the screen sadly. Haymitch snorts loudly. "Everley? Pfft, not a chance." he replies, gulping down his 4th glass of whiskey for the evening. It was Effie's 5th year as District 12's escort, and she still wasn't quite used to seeing her tributes die. "I think she could've done it, though." Effie says, trying more to convince herself rather than Haymitch. He gives her a look. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, princess." he slurs, before standing up and making his way over to the bar to grab another bottle of spirits. Effie, still watching the screen intently, is shaken out of her reverie by the sound of glass smashing. Looking over her shoulder, she sees what appears to be a broken bourbon bottle all over the floor. "Fucking hell!" Haymitch swears, rubbing his hands over his face in frustration and kicking at the little bits of glass around his feet. Effie sighs, standing up and walking over to Haymitch. "I'll get someone to clean it up," she growls "just go to bed". He stares at her for a moment, a bit bewildered by her uncharacteristic anger, opens his mouth as if to argue, before thinking better of it and shuffling off into another room. Shaking her head in dismay, she walks over to the intercom at the front of the room. Just as she's about to press the little red button to call for a maid, she hears a door open behind her. Turning around, she sees Haymitch walk back into the room with a dustpan and cloth. He gives her a lop-sided grin, before kneeling down and sweeping up the pieces of glass from the floor. She blinks, thinking her eyes are playing tricks on her. Haymitch? _Cleaning_? It was unheard of, and Effie has to fight a giggle at how odd the scene in front of her looks. Forgetting her previous anger at him, she walks over to where he's kneeling and begins to help mop up the bourbon from the tiles. They work together in silence until there is no trace of alcohol or glass anywhere on the floor. Standing up, Haymitch offers a hand to Effie. She hesitates slightly, before reaching out and taking it. "Thank you" she utters quietly, a bit unnerved at the way he was looking at her. Eager to get out of the awkward moment, Effie makes her excuses about it being a long day and heads off to her room.

Closing the door to her bedroom behind her, Effie frowns slightly. What had gotten into Haymitch lately? He'd actually been _civil_. He wasn't drunk on the train ride to the Capitol, he had offered proper advice to the tributes, and even attended a few dinners with her. It was incredibly odd behaviour for him, and she couldn't think of any reason why he might've changed his attitude so suddenly. She shakes her head, ridding her mind of all thoughts of Haymitch, before moving into her bathroom. Pulling off her wig, she dips a cloth under the tap and wipes her face clear of all her make-up. She watches the pinks and purples swirl down the drain, before turning the tap off and grabbing a towel to dry her face with. As she puts the towel down, she gets a glance of herself in the mirror. She hated her appearance without make-up. She'd been wearing it ever since she was just a girl, and it was just so strange to see her own face without it. She frowns. She'd be the laughing stock of her friends if they saw her like this, she thinks sadly. She's willing to bet they're all a lot prettier than her under all those layers of make-up. She just looked ugly without it. Shaking her head and giving her reflection a final once-over in the mirror, she heads out of the bathroom and throws herself face down on the bed. It had been such an awful day, and she couldn't wait for it to be over. Closing her eyes and pulling the blankets over herself, she falls into a deep sleep almost instantly.

Just after 3am, she's awoken by a loud crash. She groans into her pillow, annoyed at being woken up. She was willing to bet Haymitch was the source of the noise – he nearly always was. Usually, she'd just turn over and go back to sleep, but this time her curiosity gets the better of her. Maybe she'd get some idea of why he was acting so strange. She gets up out of the bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, and grabs her nightgown. She was up now anyway, so she might as well go and check if he was still alive. She opens the door to her room and sticks her head out into the hallway - nothing unusual. 'Must've come from Haymitch's room' she thinks. Tip-toeing down the corridor, she tries to remember which room is his. She presses her ear to a door 3 down from her own. Was it this one? Just as she's arguing with herself on whether to open it or not, someone flings it open so violently it nearly comes off its hinges. She jumps backwards in fright, pressing herself flat against the opposite wall. For a moment, she's so terrified of what might come out of the darkness that she almost runs back to her room. "Effie?" she hears a rough voice call from the blackness of the room, "s'that you?" It was Haymitch. She sighs in relief; only Haymitch. "Yes, it's me" she says, stepping inside and feeling up and down the wall for the light switch. Click. Found it. "I heard a crash so I came down here to-" she cuts herself off when she sees the state of the room. The bedclothes were everywhere, lamps smashed and furniture broken; even one of the windows had a crack in it. "What happened?" Effie whispered in shock, "It looks like a tornado went through here." She glances up at Haymitch, who is standing in the corner of his room looking guiltily at his feet. "How exactly are we supposed to explain this?" she asks him, angry at his apparent carelessness. He just shakes his head, still looking at the floor. "Do you have any idea how much this will cost to replace?" she says fretfully, rubbing her hands over her face. Try as she might, she can't be angry with Haymitch. She doesn't know why. Maybe it was the fact that he looked a bit like a child standing over in the corner there, or maybe it's that she knows what the games can do to somebody. She's seen it at the victory tours and parties she's attended. None of the victors seem quite all there. They've got that dead look in their eyes, even some of the career tributes. The exact same dead look that she can see right now in Haymitch's eyes. "I'm sorry" he whispers to her. And she breaks. She just _breaks_. Tears welling up in her eyes, she walks over to him and pulls him into a tight hug. She can feel his arms slowly coming up and wrapping themselves around her, and he dips his face into her neck.

They stand there like that for a while before Haymitch pulls away, startling her a little bit. Not looking her in the eye, he sits down on the bed and stares at the floor. "You should go back to bed" he says quietly, leaning down to grab a bottle of spirits he'd knocked off the side table in his rage. Effie says nothing, instead sitting down on the bed next to him. After a few awkward seconds (before she can change her mind), she grabs his hand and wraps both of her own around it. He looks at his hand in hers', then up at her face. "I get nightmares a lot" he mumbles, so quietly Effie has to lean closer to hear him. She squeezes his hand a bit. "I know," she replies, "I've heard you scream." He looks at his feet for a moment, before concentrating back on her. "You're pretty, you know. When you don't look like a clown" he murmurs, reaching up to touch her face lightly. She blinks, a little taken aback, but doesn't flinch away from his hand. "I doubt it" she answers, looking anywhere but at Haymitch. He grabs her chin and turns her face towards his. "Don't ever." he says, "You're beautiful". Never in her life, without her make-up and wigs, had Effie been called beautiful. And it makes a big, silly grin sneak its way onto her face. She probably looks like an idiot, but she doesn't care. He smiles back at her, chuckling at her reaction. "Don't read too much into-" he's cut off by Effie's lips on his own. He's shocked at first, almost pushing her away, but his resolve quickly fades and he responds in kind, wrapping his arms around her and bringing her into his lap. He's not sure whether it's the alcohol or whether he's just lost his mind, but he really likes the feel of Effie pressed up against him like this. She can taste whiskey on his breath, but she doesn't care; someone thinks she's _beautiful_. He's the first to pull away, reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "No one's ever called me beautiful before" she says quickly, trying to explain her actions. He just grins at her, making her all the more flustered. Not acknowledging her explanation, he curls a strand of her hair around his finger, and admires the beautiful blonde colour. She stares at him expectantly, waiting for him to say something. "Stay with me tonight" he blurts out unexpectedly. She's almost as shocked as he is at his proposal. They're both silent for a minute, Haymitch beginning to regret what he'd said, before Effie replies. "Fine," she says, feigning annoyance, "but we're going back to my room."

They reach Effie's bedroom without incident, his hand in hers. 'God,' he thinks, 'the room even smells like her'. She leads him to the bed and pulls back the covers. "Which side would you like?" she asks. He snorts, pulls off his shirt, and flops down in the middle of the mattress. Effie rolls her eyes, before pulling off her nightgown and untying her hair. Haymitch looks up, about to say something else, but his eyes bulge and his words seem to die on his tongue. Effie blushes furiously, glaring daggers at him. "What?" she snaps defensively. Haymitch recovers quickly. "Pink underwear? Shoulda known" he grins, enjoying her embarrassment. She folds her arms, ready to give him a speech about manners, but he grabs her and pulls her down on top of him instead. Her face lands in his chest, and she tilts her head up to look at him. "That hurt." she says, but her smile betrays her words. Haymitch looks back at her for a second, before flipping her around so they're pressed up against each other on their sides. "Thank you," he whispers into her hair," for coming to check on me". She smiles up at him, and he thinks she's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. Her arms tighten around him, and she buries her face into his chest. "Good night" she mumbles, half asleep already. He's not sure what will happen between them in the future, but he knows he cares about her. And he knows she cares about him. He feels her breathing even out soon enough, and finally lets himself fall asleep.


End file.
